The Divergent Games VIII: Heated Presence
by Renee Belladonna
Summary: svnsbvdshbchsd


Blake seemed to be staring a hole through my head, right in between my eyebrows.

He hadn't taken his eyes off of me this morning, ever. He didn't even eat any of the food that was set for him. He simply sat there across from me with his elbows on the table, his mouth and nose covered by his intertwined hands. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I had been managing to avoid his eyes the whole time I drank the cider from my goblet, but now it was just plain irritating. I jolt my head up, sending him my famous death glare.

"What?" I snap, practically silencing everyone else's conversations at the dining table and drawing their attention toward the two of us. He swallows and glances around, as if embarrassed that I caught him looking at me. He knew that I was uneasy, however. He knew that I had felt his eyes on me, and I simply couldn't stand it any longer. Finally, he meets my gaze again, and holds it, narrowing his eyes.

"I got a report late last night about mental training." he said, as if that explained it all. My eyes widen slightly, and I lean back in my chair, realizing I was hunched over like an animal. I cross my arms over my chest and try to hide how nervous I am about what he'll say next.

"And?" I bite out, fixing him with a dangerous look. He shook his head and mimicked me, pressing his back to his chair and folding his arms. I scowl, raising a brow in forced disgust and annoyance.

"Three minutes and two seconds." he states clearly, and just about everyone at the table gasps, all with the exception of Cameron. He just sat there, bent over his food and sipping from a bowl of soup as if this had happened a million times before. But of course, it hadn't. Cameron just knew what time I had gotten yesterday because of the screen in the middle of the room, showing every time from quickest to slowest. And, so be my luck, I was first on that screen, causing myself to have even more attention than intended. What was so wrong with my body that it couldn't take a simple shot?

I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose, squinting my eyes shut. "It's not that big of a deal. You all are freaking out over a putrid time." I mumble, but loud enough so they all can hear me. They all exchange worried and confused glances, as if I wasn't getting the point at all.

"It wasn't just your time." Blake clears his throat. "It was that you were able to get someone else out as well. But not only that... You were able to make a sword. Out of _nothing, _like all of it was a dream." he bends over the table, as if to get a better look at me.

"Well that's how it felt." I mutter, grimacing. "If it was a simulation, then that world is fake, like a dream. So that's how I imagined it." I explained it exactly like it is, how I actually felt. It seemed like a simple thing to me, but Cameron's team of cosmetologists and his stylist were nervously scratching the back of their necks, while Ralenia, Belinda, Aumora and Dalia were all trying to hide their overly dramatic exasperation.

Blake shakes his head. "This is not an appropriate conversation for the dining table. And to add to that, I believe it's time the tributes head down to the lobby for private training." he wipes his mouth with a napkin, even though there was no food or drink there to begin with. He stands from the table and turns, heading off in the direction of his bedroom. As soon as he's gone, I exchange a look with Cameron. It didn't show any saying other than 'what the hell was that about', but it still felt like more than that. Maybe I'm imagining things, I don't know.

Already dressed in our required training apparel, I wait in the living room with Cameron. His and my cosmetologists and stylists returned to their own apartments, so we were left alone. I began counting the seconds it took for Blake to show up, which were going up ever so slowly.

I don't understand. The simulation was like a dream, or at least, it felt like one. It didn't feel real. Every action I made- it felt entirely in my head. Like grabbing Erela's shoulders- it was more of a mental connection rather than a physical one, like I had just thought that it had happened, and it did. And the whole deal with the sword... If you have enough brain power, you can easily manipulate the setting of a dream to your advantage- so that's what I did.

But there was something else I remember from the simulation.

Halfway through, I had caught a glimpse of something flashing in the sky. It could have been lightning, but it seemed to narrowed, like a camera taking our picture. Could that have been the Gamemakers recording us in more than one way, or was it really just apart of the storm? But I didn't hear any thunder. So that means... That means it _had_ to be the flash of a camera- there's no other explanation. At least, there's no other explanation I can think of.

I think I've been really maxing out my brain in questions lately.

Finally, my head turned upwards to the sound of a door knob clicking open. Blake exited his quarters, dressed in a sleek black suit and tie, his sandy hair combed and his teeth brushed clean, which were bared when he gave us a grin that seemed unusually forced. His eyes darted from me to Cameron repeatedly, and they seemed icy instead of welcoming, like they normally are.

"You two will be one of the last tributes to go into private training today. As custom, we select tributes one by one in alphabetical order of their factions. Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Dauntless, and lastly, Erudite. Then they go by districts, lowest numbers to highest." Blake explains as he gestures for us to stand, and reluctantly, we do. Cameron and I simultaneously cross our arms over our chests, and Blake raises a brow at the action, but shrugs it off after a moment. He should be used to this by now.

"I'm ready." I say blankly, not taking my focused vision from Blake's squinted eyes. He parted his lips as if to say something, but was interrupted by Cameron.

"I am too. Bet I can get a higher score than you." he says, punching my arm as he walks towards the door. "Towards our deaths, we advance." he says with an odd bit of confidence and sarcasm as he leaves the room. My brow goes up in confusion. When has Cameron ever teased me in a nice way? When has he ever made a sarcastic joke around me?

"The hell?" I mutter as he leaves, but my head cocks to the side as I feel a firm grip on my upper arm. I see Blake staring at me with wide, serious eyes, much closer than he has ever been before. Our shoes are only about two inches apart from each other, and I try not to make my anxiety show so much.

"Renee, you can't mess this up. If you can manage a high score, you'll get sponsors, lots of them. Not to mention allies and a longer life span." His other hand is on my opposite arm now, and he's even closer. I swallow, my lips slightly parting a bit and my brows twitching slightly up at him. "Please Renee. I can't bare to see you die. And I'm sorry for earlier, it was uncalled for." he pulls me into a hug, my fists pressed up against his chest and his muscular arms wrapped tightly around my back. I've never been held before by anyone with the exception of my mother. But even then it was just quick hugs or meaningful ones, not like this. I can feel the passion and frustration and determination to keep me alive burning through his veins. His heart pounds half a beat faster than it's supposed to, and mine even quicker than that. The only thing is, I kind of like it.

I like the way his presence wraps me in complete warmth. Maybe all Amity have that affect, but with him, it's different. It's unique. He just feels right, being here with me, and I don't know how I know, but I do. I've never thought about Blake like this until now, and maybe it's just a one moment feeling, but even so, I don't necessarily want it to end.

He pulled away, his nose only inches from mine. "Don't die on me, Renee. If I was Dauntless like you, I would tell you that if you die, I'll kill you." those words sent a half grin on his face, his features softening to that open expression that he usually has. One of his hands comes up from my back and to my jaw, his thumb smoothing over my cheek.

I have never kissed anyone in my life, but I didn't care if I was inexperienced or not. Right now, right at this moment, all I wanted was for him to press his lips up against mine. Normally I would never think about boys in this way, mainly because I had closed myself off to anyone else except for Kelli, my mother and my baby brother, Tyson.

"Would all twenty five tributes please report to the lobby for private training. That is all, thank you." the automated message comes in through the walls of the room, almost instantly separating me from Blake. My mind seems back in check now. I shake my head and roll my shoulders a few times before daring to look him in the eye.

"Renee," he starts, but I don't want to hear any of it. He's throwing me off balance with all these mixed emotions. I need to stay focused if I want to do anything productive today in private training.

"I need to go, Blake. You heard the call." I said, now staring at the ground and motioning at the small black holes up high in all the walls. Cameras and intercoms. I have no idea what might happen to Blake or I if that scene had gone any further. They're probably watching us right now, which is exactly why I need to get out. I push past him and head towards the door, making my footsteps quick but silent.

What the hell was that? It's like one hug has sent my whole way of thinking and feeling into complete chaos. I hurry out of the apartment and down the hall, feeling Blake's eyes on me from behind.

I wish I had never met Blake. He's brought out a whole other side of me that I do not want to have shown. I'm better on my own. I'm better on my own. I do not need anyone to depend on, all I need is myself.

I'm going to die and there's no stopping it.

** End**

** Chapter Eight**

** The Divergent Games **


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